


The French...Yeah That

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Destiel Short Stories [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during The French Mistake. Dean and Sam go back to Dean's house instead and realize fake Dean is married to fake Cas. Dean decides he can use this to his advantage, only the real Cas has something to say about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The French...Yeah That

**Author's Note:**

> Based off that gif set on tumblr with the flowers and such

“You gotta get outta here, hell, go to fake you’s house . . . maybe you’ve got some demonic free Ruby waiting on you. I don’t care, but you’re leaving right now,” Dean hurriedly says as he grabs Sam’s arm and guides him towards the door.

“What . . . why would I—?” Sam tries protesting, but Dean’s already managed to shove him through the doorway. Dean swings the door forcefully, but Sam stops it easily with one of his freakishly large arms, rushing out, “what the hell Dean, you really wanna bang fake Cas?” 

Um. Duh. Of course Dean wants to bang fake Cas . . . for, like, _hours._ Getting all that sweet angel ass with none of repercussions, sounds like grade-A good luck in Dean's mind. Not that Dean would ever admit this to anyone but he has had, um, _a few_ dirty thoughts involving the angel. Dean's not _gay_ , or anything, but honestly, a man can only take so much staring before he starts to get curious. And Dean is very, very curious, but Sammy doesn’t need to know any of this, so instead of completely cutting off his own dick, by talking through all his pointless _feelings,_ Dean just smirks and pushes Sam out of the door way, slamming the door behind him. 

Dean smells the scent of something sweet and fruity on his small stroll back to the kitchen. _Please let it be pie,_ Dean thinks. 

As he breeches the kitchen, Dean is welcomed by brighter lights, and the sight of Cas—well Misha or whatever—grinning over at him, warming up a pie in the microwave. Misha has shed the sweater, and is sporting a Led Zeppelin tee now. Dean soaks in what he sees, and loves it. He’s gonna have to buy his Cas some new apparel—wait, shit—that’s probably a _very_ bad idea.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to cook a fresh one,” Misha’s less gravelly, yet still quite satisfying, voice startles Dean out of his stupor, “but Lissa was late getting here to watch West, causing me a pretty stressful day.”

West, okay, that’s a little weird. Dean's betting on them have a kid, he probably should just avoid the subject until he can find out more. Shortening the space between the fake Cas and him, Dean walks over and takes the newly warmed pie out of Misha’s hands. Dean barely has time to set the thing down before Misha is on him, pressing every inch of those lean muscles against Dean's own. Strong arms find their way around Dean’s waist and he is, all of the sudden, overwhelmed with the scent of honey. 

Dean doesn’t even have time to make a move before Misha is pressing his perfectly plumed, chapped lips into Dean’s, less than, ready own. The chaste kiss ends almost as abruptly as it started when Misha pulls back and gazes in Dean’s eyes, “I’m just so happy I have you Jen, you just don’t understand.”

Jen? Oh yeah, he’s Jensen or whatever, let’s just pretend he meant Dean. Matching Misha’s embrace, Dean places his hands onto top of the other man’s hipbones. The perfect fit causes Dean’s heart to flutter a bit, and he pulls Misha towards him. 

“I am so happy to have you as well.”

Their staring is cut short by a small cough from the other room. Dean turns to find a short blonde girl standing at the edge of the kitchen with an awkward smile on her face. Dean, impulsively, shoves Misha off him. 

“Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch, Jensen, like I haven’t seen worse from the two of you,” The girl’s light heartedly comments.

“Anyway,” she goes on, “I’ve gotta get going, West is out like a light, so you two should be able to have some fun tonight.”

After winking she prances down the hall and out the front door. 

Moving over to grab something from the cabinet, Misha speaks, “so anyway, who were you talking about when you said baby?”

Dean laughs, “Me and Sa—Jared were just working on a scene, we didn’t like what was written today so we were trying out something different.” 

The lie actually sounds quite thought out, and Dean gives himself an invisible pat on the back. Misha’s heat lands on Dean again, and goose bumps cover Dean's arms. He hands over a fork and a can of whip cream.

“Go upstairs and have some pie, I’m gonna run out to the car and get your real surprise,” Misha says, and as he turns to leave he adds, “the flowers were silly I know, but this you will defiantly like.”

After watching Misha’s ass disappear around the corner, Dean ventures up stairs. He finds what looks to be the master bedroom, and plops down heavily onto the fluffy mattress. Yes, he could get used to this. 

After soaking up the comfort for a few minutes, Dean takes Misha’s advice, and smothers the pie in whip cream before digging in. Dean nearly has two whole pieces finished when he hears a loud clacking sound coming from the doorway.

He looks up to find Misha walking—well strutting—in, wearing nothing but tight little, black boxer briefs and six inch, shiny, black pumps.

Dean takes it in. All of it. And he realizes he likes what he's seeing. Letting a smile over take his face as he sets the pie down on the dresser, Dean pushes off the bed. 

Making his way towards Misha, he manages to shed everything but his undershirt and boxers. His steadily growing erection, bouncing even fuller to life as he approaches the man, and is trapped within Misha’s blue gaze.

Meeting again, finally, Dean is more aggressive this time. Letting his hands explore every inch of the other man's exposed body. Dean kisses him roughly, and backs him up against the dresser causing a few items to crash to the floor around them. With nowhere for Misha to back up, Dean is forced to push against the other man this time, and let their hips meet.

Just as he feels Misha’s hardness rut against his leg, Dean hears a sound he could never forget. 

The unavoidable rustle of wings hits Dean’s ears, and no more than a second later, he’s being aggressively thrown backwards. 

Dean steadies himself and looks back up to find Cas, with his hand to Misha’s forehead, and Misha crashing to the floor. 

Dean is _beyond_ lost for words, he wants to shrivel up into a ball and die. Did he really just get caught by Cas, trying to fuck his identical twin? Of course he did, why wouldn’t he?

Dean lets his gaze meet Cas’s, and he nearly cringes at the pure anger radiating off the angel.

Before Dean can so much as move, Cas is up in his personal space and yanking Dean even closer by latching on to Dean’s undershirt with tightly clenched fists.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing, Dean?” Cas’s familiar gravel soothes Dean despite the situation. 

Being Dean Winchester, he decides to use his normal avoiding tactics, and makes a joke out of it, “Well what did it look like we were doing—“

Before he can finish Dean finds himself suddenly flying through the air, and crashing down onto the soft mattress once again. 

He sees Cas striding over, sounding like he's nearly breaking the floor boards with every angry step. He probably is, Dean thinks. 

“Well, Dean, it looked like you were about to have sex with a man . . .” Cas says as he starts rolling up his sleeves a bit, “a man who shares the same image as me.”

All Dean can do is let out a little choke, and then Cas actually smiles down at him.

“But the thing is, Dean,” Cas continues as he joins Dean on the bed, placing himself right between Dean’s legs, “he’s not me, and you’re mine.”

The pure animalistic hunger's burning through Cas’s eyes and into Dean's soul, sends shivers up Dean’s spine. Did Cas really want him, like this? 

Answering the unspoken question with actions, Cas uses his mojo and Dean finds himself completely naked. 

He feels one of Cas’s, already lubed somehow, fingers slide between his cheeks and locate his hole. Dean’s whole body stiffens, but that doesn’t stop Cas; pushing past the tight skin hard, and fast Cas quickly has his whole finger in Dean.

Cas, losing it a bit himself, murmurs a growl, sounding like, “Mine.”

Working him steadily, Cas soon adds another finger, and then another. Finally, feeling Dean is ready, the still fully dressed Cas quickly undoes his pants and pulls his cock out. The clean cut, hardened, tightly pulled pink flesh is better than Dean's ever imagined, and he finds himself suddenly dry-mouthed thinking about taking this length inside him. 

Inching closer, Cas grabs Dean up, and places Dean’s legs on his shoulders. Dean ignores the fact that he's never been able to bend like this a day in his life, and briefly praises all things angel-mojo. Cas looks Dean in the eye, but waits for no conformation before he presses the head of his dick in. 

The burning, hotness moves from his ass across Dean’s whole body as Cas, in one swift motion, fully emerges himself inside Dean. 

Moving together now, taking all Cas has to offer, Dean is over whelmed with pleasure, and his cock quickly starts throbbing. Feeling the pull of his orgasm close around the corner, Dean moves to take hold of his neglected cock. Only, he finds his hand being slammed back down into the bad, and held there with some invisible force. Damn angels, fucking dicks. 

Dean realizes, as he studies the beautiful creature slamming into him, that Cas has to be as close as Dean is. Sweat, which Dean has never actually seen on Cas before, is beading along Cas’s forehead, and his movements are getting more forceful and frantic with every thrust. 

Shamelessly breaking first, even without help from his hand, Dean burst all over his stomach, and chest. 

Only a couple hard pumps later and is Cas spilling hot, wetness into Dean’s ass with a strangled cry, that sounds a lot like, “mmm . . . mine.”

Quickly pulling himself out, and readjusting his spent-cock back into the confines of his pants, Cas speaks, “so I can assume, we won’t have this problem again, correct Dean?”

Dean shakes his head in agreement, unable to manage much more. If Cas wants this, then hell, Dean wants this too. The only reason he never tried anything is because he never knew if it was what Cas wanted. But _clearly_ he wants Dean, and wants Dean all to himself. 

Dean suddenly feels dry again, and realizes he’s back to sporting his undershirt and boxers, he looks up to find Cas already gone.

Despite his sex partner ditching him, Dean is still smiling ear to ear, because this whole situation, fucked as it is, probably is one of the best things that’s ever happened to him. Between seeing what Cas would look like wearing high heels, and Dean actually getting laid by the real Cas, Dean might just be the happiest man alive right now. And he will certainly never forget any of it. 

Rolling off the bed, Dean sighs, thinking how explaining all this to Sammy is gonna be the hard part. Locating his wrinkled jeans, Dean finds his phone, and scrolls to Sam’s number.

“Hello?” Sam’s voice rings through the speaker.

“So you’ll never guess what just happened to me . . .” Dean begins as he leaves the bedroom, in search for ‘West’s’ room. He should probably make sure the kids okay, considering Cas knocked out Misha for the night. 

And hell, maybe he’s a little curious too. 


End file.
